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"Dost thou see them, boy?-through the dusky

pines

Dost thou see where the foeman's armour shines? Hast thou caught the gleam of the conqueror's crest? My babe, that I cradled on my breast!

Wouldst thou spring from thy mother's arms with joy?

-That sight hath cost thee a father, boy!"

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For in the rocky strait beneath,

Lay Suliote sire and son:

They had heap'd high the piles of death.

Before the pass was won.

They have cross'd the torrent, and on they come: Woe for the mountain hearth and home!

There, where the hunter laid by his spear,

There, where the lyre hath been sweet to hear, There, where I sang thee, fair babe! to sleep, Nought but the blood-stain our trace shall keep!"

And now the horn's loud blast was heard,

And now the cymbal's clang,

Till even the upper air was stirr'd,
As cliff and hollow rang.

"Hark! they bring music, my joyous child!
What saith the trumpet to Suli's wild?
Doth it light thine eye with so quick a fire,

As if at a glance of thine armèd sire ?

Still-be thou still!-there are brave men low:

Thou wouldst not smile couldst thou see him now!"

But nearer came the clash of steel,
And louder swell'd the horn,

And farther yet the tambour's peal

Through the dark pass was borne.

"Hear'st thou the sound of their savage mirth?
Boy! thou wert free when I gave thee birth,—
Free, and how cherish'd, my warrior's son !
He too hath bless'd thee, as I have done!
Ay, and unchain'd must his loved ones be-
Freedom, young Suliote! for thee and me!"

And from the arrowy peak she sprung,
And fast the fair child bore :-
A veil upon the wind was flung,
A cry-and all was o'er!

THE FAREWELL TO THE DEAD.

[The following piece is founded on a beautiful part of the Greek funeral service, in which relatives and friends are invited to embrace the deceased (whose face is uncovered) and to bid their final adieu.-See Christian Researches in the Mediterranean.]

""Tis hard to lay into the earth

A countenance so benign! a form that walk'd
But yesterday so stately o'er the earth!"

COME near! Ere yet the dust

WILSON.

Soil the bright paleness of the settled brow,
Look on your brother; and embrace him now,
In still and solemn trust!

Come near !—once more let kindred lips be press'd
On his cold cheek; then bear him to his rest!

Look yet on this young

face!

What shall the beauty, from amongst us gone,
Leave of its image, even where most it shone,
Gladdening its hearth and race?

Dim grows the semblance on man's heart impress'd.
Come near, and bear the beautiful to rest !

Ye weep, and it is well!

For tears befit earth's partings! Yesterday,
Song was upon the lips of this pale clay,
And sunshine seem'd to dwell

Where'er he moved-the welcome and the bless'd.
Now gaze! and bear the silent unto rest!

Look yet on him whose eye

Meets yours no more, in sadness or in mirth.
Was he not fair amidst the sons of earth,
The beings born to die?—

But not where death has power may love be bless'd.
Come near and bear ye the beloved to rest!

How may the mother's heart

Dwell on her son, and dare to hope again?
The spring's rich promise hath been given in vain—
The lovely must depart!

Is he not gone, our brightest and our best?
Come near! and bear the early-call'd to rest!

Look on him! Is he laid

To slumber from the harvest or the chase ?

Too still and sad the smile

upon

his face;

Yet that, even that must fade:

Death holds not long unchanged his fairest guest. Come near and bear the mortal to his rest!

His voice of mirth hath ceased

Amidst the vineyards! there is left no place
For him whose dust receives your vain embrace,
At the gay bridal-feast!

Earth must take earth to moulder on her breast. Come near! weep o'er him! bear him to his rest.

Yet mourn ye not as they

Whose spirit's light is quench'd! For him the past
Is seal'd he may not fall, he may not cast
His birthright's hope away!

All is not here of our beloved and bless'd.
Leave

ye the sleeper with his God to rest!

MISCELLANEOUS PIECES.

THE TREASURES OF THE DEEP.*

WHAT hidest thou in thy treasure caves and cells, Thou hollow-sounding and mysterious main ?— Pale glistening pearls, and rainbow-colour'd shells Bright things which gleam unreck'd of, and in vain.

Keep, keep thy riches, melancholy sea!

We ask not such from thee.

Yet more, the depths have more! What wealth untold,

Far down, and shining through their stillness lies! Thou hast the starry gems, the burning gold,

Won from ten thousand royal Argosies.

Sweep o'er thy spoils, thou wild and wrathful main! Earth claims not these again.

Yet more, the depths have more! Thy waves have roll'd

Above the cities of a world gone by!

Sand hath fill'd up the palaces of old,

Sea-weed o'ergrown the halls of revelry.—

*

Originally introduced in the " Forest Sanctuary."

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